


Connection

by snarechan



Category: Transformers, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Bad Romance - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-12
Updated: 2009-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creeper-bot is a creeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [momotouchesducks](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=momotouchesducks).



> Momo tried to break me with the prompt: _Tarantulas/Cheetor, let’s have some tarantulas being a creeper and harassing cheetor at night via that com-thingy._ Never before has it become apparent how much harder I need to work on writing for this series than this. ;A;

Cheetor was woken up by static. It went beyond his audios, the crackling echoing inside of his head and jarring him to awareness. He slipped from his berth, managing to roll and land on all hands and knees, and glanced around in puzzlement. When the hissing and strangled beeps came again, he shook his head, sitting up and giving the side of it a couple of firm whacks with his wrist. A hush settled over the airwaves at his efforts, and with a relieved sigh he settled back into place to return to sleep, too tired to wonder what that had been about.

* * *

Hanging out with Airazor was a hit-or-miss event, but always an enjoyable one. Her abilities called for her to explore elsewhere, in places that few of them could follow, and she often spent her free time away. With his own responsibilities to keep himself occupied, it wasn’t easy to find a slot where they both had the opportunity to see each other.

Today was their lucky day: Cheetor was finishing up a mission and Airazor was off to start a new one, having just reported in to base. It was pouring out, and he’d taken refuge under a group of trees, the fur on his back all puffed up and his internal communications link on the fritz thanks to the storm’s interference. Or so he hoped. A cry up above alerted him to Airazor’s presence, his entire demeanor perking up as he looked to the sky and saw her flying above his position.

“Hey, you,” she greeted warmly, gliding down to settle beside him on the large boulder he was sitting on. It was particularly well-hidden under the outcropping of a tree. “Long time no see.”

Gently, he dropped the canister he held in his jaws and grinned, whiskers twitching as he did so and dispelling water everywhere.

“No kidding. What are you doing here?”

“I went to check in with Optimus and was instructed to give the place a couple sweeps. What about you?”

“Oh, something for Rhinox. He wants me to run around and drop these sensor nodes of his. I think he’s worried about this planet’s rainy season.”

“It’s getting to be that time of year,” Airazor agreed.

They surveyed the landscape, noting the muddy and soppy ground, and with their advanced eyesight, they could pick up the rising water level of many lakes and rivers in the distance. She ruffled her feathers, puffing them out to dispel the chill. Though she was accustomed to the icy climates, there was a difference between being wet while cold and dry while cold. He could sympathize; he didn’t enjoy the rain, either.

Seeming to read his thoughts, she spread out one of her wings, offering him additional protection from the wet and wind. He offered her a grateful purr, the rumble deep, and circled his tail around her taloned feet to return the gesture.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, pussycat. We all need a helping hand sometimes.”

* * *

That night, he heard whispers. He couldn’t understand the words, hurried and soft as they were, but they would fade in and out, causing him to stir during the hours when the sky outside was turning a satin navy blue. Cheetor sprang awake with the feeling of being surrounded on all sides, a voice murmuring inside of him. It was invading his thoughts and he didn’t _understand,_ was a frightened kitten alone in the dark, and when his chronometer went off with its familiar alarm and brought him out of it, he was himself again.

* * *

“Did you say something, Rhinox?”

The technician looked up in surprise, directing his seat towards Cheetor, who had addressed him.

“No… Why do you think I did?” he asked, baffled. The Axalon had been quiet all day, the two of them on security detail while the rest of the group was out on the usual patrols. The younger Maximal rubbed the back of his head, looking around to confirm that this remained the case.

“Ah, well. I thought I heard you talking to me.”

Rhinox shrugged.

“Wasn’t me. Too busy concentrating on these schematics to hold much of a conversation,” he confirmed, offering up a wry smile. “Maybe you’re just hearing things, being cooped up in this quiet place for so long.”

* * *

Without knowing why, Cheeter woke up feeling _bothered._ His exterior had an awkward feeling of tightness to it, like he didn’t quite fit into this form. It felt too small all of a sudden, and there was no resisting a roll of his shoulders. He couldn’t shake the impression, and it reminded him of being under intense scrutiny or participating in a losing fight. He didn’t understand why he could arise like this, but stranger still was the fact that his head was spinning and the outside of him was… _hot._

* * *

He had an awful headache, and it was prone to be aggravated by the simplest of everyday occurrences. It caused him to jump and wince whenever he was spoken to, his friends’ voices always too loud, as if they were constantly yelling at him. The sun was too bright, the smells he picked up were too strong – no matter what it was he was doing, it was painful.

Cheetor tread carefully through the fields, keeping low to the ground, mimicking the quick-footed creatures he had scanned from. They had the right idea; down here, he could hide from the world, the tall grasses blending in with his exterior and protecting him from the sun and prying eyes.

“‘Ey, Cheetor-”

With a startled “ _mrow!_ ” he jumped into the air and whirled towards the unexpected visitor. The fur on his back bristled and his tail lashed, frame in the position to spring into attack, until he caught sight of Rattrap giving him an unimpressed expression.

“A little high-strung today, are we?” the saboteur asked, not expecting an answer but getting one nonetheless.

“Only a little,” Cheetor conceded, letting his body slump to the ground as he released all his pent up tension. “I’m just on high alert, that’s all. Never know when those Predacons might strike!”

Rattrap snorted. “Perhaps you should tone it down a bit? Nobody around here for miles according to my scanners, and believe you me, I’m never wrong about these things.”

* * *

He didn’t get any rest that night; he didn’t try to sleep in the least. Getting situated on his berth, he sat with his back to the wall and legs curled up against his chest, a datapad of all his favorite comic files at hand. If anything were to happen, he’d be awake and ready for it – except that all he had to show for his bravado come morning was exhaustion and mild disappointment.

* * *

“Have any of you noticed anything… _off_ about Cheetor, lately?” the voice of Optimas Primal asked his crew at large, loud enough for all audios to hear him, but only enough for the Maximal in question to pick it up as he was moments away from entering the room. He halted around the corner and pressed his frame against the wall, listening curiously.

“Odd _how?_ You’re going to have to be more specific than that, boss-monkey,” Rattrap scoffed, no doubt lounging back in his seat – feet propped up on a console and arms behind his head. “That cat has more quirks than I can count.”

Silently, Cheetor rolled his eyes.

“I’m not sure how to explain it. He hasn’t been acting like himself lately.”

“Now that you mention it, he seems a bit preoccupied as of late. I can’t explain why that is; I just figured he needed an active role around here to settle himself,” Rhinox admitted, his deep voice thankfully carrying, since he sounded the furthest away from the door.

Rattrap, a bit more serious than before, added, “And jumpy, I guess.”

“Hm…skittish, more like.”

That was Dinobot; he’d recognize that combination of contemplation and scorn from across the galaxy. Cheetor had to keep from shifting and making too much noise as he tried to lean in closer, a frown now crossing his features. Sure, he’d been cautious as of late, but he didn’t consider himself a scaredy cat! Whatever was going on with him, he could handle – it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Optimus Primal sighed, the sound causing Cheetor to slump in guilt before he could even think about it. He’d heard that particular brand of exhale often enough to understand what it meant, especially in reference to himself.

“I’ll go talk to him about it in the morning, see if I can’t sort this out.”

* * *

Room empty, Cheetor was instead occupying the terrain outside the ship, angrily pushing aside tree branches and stomping through the forest. Through his stubborn haze, he picked up that the sounds in his head would increase or decrease depending on which direction he took, using it as a sort of compass to know where to go and end this once and for all.

* * *

Cheetor didn’t recognize where he was, though it was on the map somewhere to the west, where the Predacon and Maximal territories converged. It was a mountainous place, with a lot of valleys, steep cliffs, and uneven ground. Cheetor had to be careful where he stepped in the dark, the earth unstable when it didn’t appear to be, and he had to move lightly and quickly.

He’d been circling the region for a while, on the lookout for clues, but coming up with nothing to indicate whether he’d come to the right spot, or if he was here alone. Taking a seat on the gritty and compacted earth with a dejected air, he was contemplating giving up entirely when his communications line buzzed, and then-

 _Ahahaha…_

It was the most clear he’d heard anyone on the line outside of his teammates, and it was loud, resounding in his head as if it were his very own thoughts. Recognizing the voice, he snarled and leapt from his position, starting on four feet and crouching on two by the time he landed. His gun was clutched in one hand, finger on the trigger.

“Tarantulas! Where are you hiding?!”

 _You’ve come this far; why not discover that for yourself? A big boy like you shouldn’t need_ me _to help you, ahahaha!_

“Yeah,” he muttered, slowly moving into a defensive stance. Nothing looked out of place, but the scientist was as good as any coward, finding the best places to hide in. Cautiously, Cheetor raised his head and took in the rocks that towered over him. There didn’t appear to be anyone lurking there, either.

Sweeping his gun across his field of vision as he guardedly took a few steps forward, he asked aloud, “Why are you doing this? If you wanted me to beat you up so badly, you should have asked me in person.”

Another one of Tarantulas’ giddy chuckles filled his head, the sound somehow _more_ obnoxious when his audios couldn’t pick it up physically, a fact that he’d boggle over later when he wasn’t on the hunt.

 _A test; nothing more._

“Yeah, well, your little experiment is about to be ov- _aaaah!_ ”

Upon his next step, the ground gave a great lurch and then collapsed right under him. He windmilled his arms, nearly losing his weapon in the process of trying to regain his balance, but ended up falling face first into the hole that had opened up, going down. He went head over heels, landing flat on his back.

Whatever it was that caught him wasn’t hard enough to be the land, the substance sticky and elastic, bouncing with his added weight before settling again. Dust and stones _plinked_ on top of him, causing him to cough softly.

Suddenly, his shoulder itched with the sensation of a thin, hairy appendage sliding suggestively against it, and he started in that direction. In the gloom, he could barely make out the sight of a spider’s leg. On the opposite side, something rubbed against his exposed neck, the voice of Tarantulas no longer far away and distant.

“Oh, but the test is just _beginning_ , kitten.”

-Fin-


End file.
